


Dating Is Hard

by CavannaRose



Series: Rogues Fics [12]
Category: The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Axel is a spoiled child, Axel is an idiot, Background Relationships, Bad Flirting, Bad Scottish Accent, Crimes & Criminals, Dating, Fuck you dudes can wear dresses, Gender Issues, Heist, I have so many to finish, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Mirrors, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Robbery, Slow Build, Subverting gender roles, Trans Male Character, Vomiting, Why did I start another story, plot bunnies ran away with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-03 23:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13351710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: Someone catches Axel's eye, but catching theirs in return is proving a challenge.(This is about Axel/OC, all other relationships are background.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IanPeriwinkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IanPeriwinkle/gifts).



At first Axel thought it was a girl on the sidewalk ahead of him, floppy hat and summer dress blowing in the wind. Wanting a better look, he skated ahead with his gravity defying shoes, just until he’d passed the figure, dangling upside down from a street sign to impress them. When the person in the dress looked up, Axel was stunned almost speechless. The person in front of him was handsomely androgynous, and he was struck by the sudden suspicion that he was looking at another dude. Still, that didn't matter much to him, he was bored, they were attractive, and most importantly he was practically famous.

“Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you dresses were for girls?!?” He shouted at the boy in the hat, trying to catch his attention by teasing him. It always worked before, and really, when you had a good shtick, why change it?

Blue eyes locked on his, brows drawn into a fearsome frown. “No.”

Axel hung there slack jawed as the handsome creature dismissed him with a single word and walked away. They didn't even look back when his legs let go of the street sign and he crumpled into a rather painful pile on the sidewalk. Muttering under his breath and rubbing his bruised backside (there wasn't much he could do for his bruised ego), he wondered where exactly he had gone wrong. A dude in a dress had to know he'd draw attention, right?

Grumbling, Axel did what any irritated little shite would in such a situation, he followed the man. "C'mon dude, I was only teasing. It's a great dress! You look great in it, I got something right here that will tell you how great." He grinned broadly, cupping himself in a suggestive manner. When he looked up, he deflated again. The young man in the dress was not only not looking, but he was on his cell phone, walking away even faster.

Axel was flummoxed. He'd never failed to catch someone's attention before, and he wanted to see more of the handsome face. It was clearly time to regroup, and he dropped away, letting his quarry vanish in the distance as he thought about what else he could to to catch the other male's attention. Boxing his own ears in frustration, he concluded that maybe he needed some advice. He couldn't go to the older guys, they could be a little iffy when it came to pursuing individuals of the same gender. Hartley and James were on a date, and the threats he had received made it very clear he could not afford the consequences of interrupting them.

A light went off in the chaos within the younger Trickster's brain. Emotions and relationships and that kinda stuff were girly things, he should go talk to Lisa! He pulled out his own phone to check the time, and then remembered, as he gazed forlornly at the shattered screen, that the stupid thing was broken again. He'd forgotten that Leonard refused to take him to fix it until he could pay for it himself, and wouldn't take him on any jobs until he proved he was mature enough to handle some basic responsibility, a combination of facts that was quickly leading him to believe that Captain Cold had no intention of doing either.

He frowned, having lost his train of thought again. Shoving his hands in his pocket, he pulled out his yo-yo and grinned, practicing several more advanced tricks with the brightly-painted spool of wood. It didn't move quite as nice as the exploding ones, but he'd learned the hard way not to practice with those. Smoothly completing the challenging Kwyjibo Yoyo Trick, he crowed in triumph. "That'd show that stuck up dude I'm the kinda guy you want to pay attention to!"

....

It all rushed back. The young man in the skirt, his humiliating failure at receiving any kind of attention, and his need for advice. Axel turned towards the skating arena. He had to find Lisa, and chances were she was there, practicing her routines under the fond gaze of her stick-in-the-mud husband. The younger Trickster would have to be careful, Roscoe had not exactly been subtle about his disapproval for the youngest of the Rogues.

As he had suspected, Lisa was on the ice, practicing all kinds of fancy footwork and jumps on her skates, her doting boyfriend in the stands taking careful notes on a pad of paper. Axel knew he would tweak the routine a dozen times before the couple were content with the results. He would hate to spend that much time or effort on anything, patience wasn't exactly his virtue. Still, he paused for a moment, pressing his face against the Plexiglas as she whipped across the ice. She was fast, faster than he was on his anti-grav shoes, her motions with an intrinsic grace. It was crazy to think her and Cold had the same parents.

On her next turn, Lisa caught sight of the kid's face all smushed up against the clear divider, and mis-stepped on her landing as she burst out laughing, having to use her picks in a quick burst of steps to right herself. Roscoe scowled, standing to get a better look at what happened, brows furrowed with concern for the blonde woman. Still laughing, she waved him back to his seat, skating over to the nearest gate onto the ice, Axel shuffling over to meet her.

"What's brought you to this end of town, little man?" Lisa asked, reaching out to mess up his artistically messy hair. He pulled a face, batting her hands away and passing through the gate she held open, feet mere inches above the ice as they matched pace, taking a few warm up laps around the rink to make sure the figure skater hadn't injured herself. The first few laps they were silent as Axel tried to think of how to phrase his question without sounding completely lame, and the older woman patiently waited him out, not rushing the young man as he wrestled with whatever demons he'd brought to her today.

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay, so it's like this. There was this chick in a dress, real cute backside on her, but then she wasn't a chick, she was a dude." Lisa's eyebrow arched and Axel rushed on to reassure her. "That wasn't the problem! He was still a pretty handsome dude, but when I tried to get his attention, he totally shot me down. So I tried to follow him and try to talk to him again, and he completely ignored me! I don't know what went wrong."

They made several more circuits of the rink, before Lisa skated to the side, doing a little jump/turn that ended with her back leaning against the boundary, elbows hooked over the ledge, pick anchoring her so she didn't slide away. "Well I suppose that all depends on what you said to this person. If you were teasing, mocking, lewd or rude I would say it's probably a lost cause and you should just give up and leave them be." The guilty look that crossed the boy's face was all the confession she needed.

Sighing, Lisa pulled her braid forward, twisting it in her hands along her front as she thought. "If you've already messed up so atrociously, it will take a big gesture to even get you back on the ice, never mind in the competition. I don't mean glossing over the whole situation and trying to look smooth, either. You're going to have to go out there and make a sincere and impressive apology. If you're not willing to do that, then let the 'handsome dude' go. Sometimes you just strike out, hun."

Axel screwed up his face in disappointment, brows scrunching, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He wanted to see the handsome guy again, but he absolutely did not want to apologize. "Are you ABSOLUTELY sure that there's no other way to do this, Lisa?" One look at her stern face dissuaded him from bothering her with this any further. "Right, thanks for the advice. I will go home and consider everything you've said and what I should do next." Floating slightly higher he gave her a quick hug, face flashing red with embarrassment, and then zoomed up and away from the ice, not bothering to exit through the door when there was a conveniently unlocked window he could dart through.

For hours that night he paced the floor of the room he was bunking in at the Den, up and down, back and forth, until Evan came in and flat out threatened to murder him. After that he paced in the air, so as not to disturb the drunken men he shared his criminal life with. Finally, after much deliberation, he decided that Lisa was right. He was going to have to apologize. Heaving a heavy sigh of disappointment, he checked the clock on the wall. It said 3:45, so it was probably just after eight in the morning. Stores should be opening soon, and he had plans to prepare.

It was mid-afternoon by the time he was ready, and he had it all set up. Staking out the area he had first encountered his possible romantic quarry, he found himself a seat, in a chair, facing the right way even! He was dressed in something he'd dug out of Leonard's closet that looked passable, it certainly was more subdued than his usual panoply. He clutched in his sweaty hand a dozen thornless roses, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

His foot tapped an irate staccato on the sidewalk as the sun drifted lower and lower along the horizon. Soon he was sitting in the twilight, shredding petals off flowers and muttering to himself. "Stupid Lisa. Stupid handsome boy in his stupid dress. Stupid me for thinking this was anything but a stupid idea." Frustrated and irate he stood, tossing the remains of the bouquet into the nearest rubbish bin and storming off home. See if he ever tried to apologize again.

At home he tossed things about his little room, breaking his favourite yo-yo when it bounced too hard off the wall, leaving a crack across the left side. Axel swore low under his breath, pitching it in the bin and throwing himself down on the stained coverlet, one arm over his eyes. Life was horrible. Everything was awful. Why did he even bother trying anything? It just got ruined.

Summoned by all the racket the kid was making, Leonard swung through the door, not bothering to knock. "The fuck is wrong with you kid? ... Is that my fucking good shirt?"

Axel flipped the leader of the Rogues the bird, not really putting much heat or energy into. "You'll have to rebook that night with Angie until after laundry day."

Not one to take lip from those that worked for him, the Captain reached out, bunching up a bunch of the thick blanket in his large hand and gave a tug, snapping it off the bed and dropping the boy on the floor. He stood over the young man, dropping the bedding to one side. "You wanna tell me what this is all about, or are we just gonna go straight to the conversation about respect and consequences?"

Still shaken from his earlier desolation, barely masked by his fit of pique, he looked up at the older male, a hint of tears welling in the corner of his big blue eyes. For a moment, images of another small blonde with big blue eyes flashed before him, of another heavy handed male standing over that form. Sighing, Len offered a hand to the kid, helping him stand before sitting on the bed, the frame groaning at the unaccustomed weight. "Tell me what's on your mind, kid." His voice was gruff with unsaid words, and for once Axel was too wrapped up in his own drama to prod for more details.

So he told Leonard. He told him all of it. About the cute backside in the flirty dress. About the person being male. About the things he had said and the gestures he'd made. He gave more honesty, talking to the older man than he had with Lisa, not as worried that the Captain would find him lacking in some way. Then he told the worst of it. He relayed the advice Lisa had given, the grand gesture he had set up, and his abject failure. Finally he was done, sitting there silently, staring at his hands in dejection.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Leonard was a simple man. He didn't get caught up with emotions. He paid for his companionship, and spent the rest of his time and energy trying to keep their ramshackle little crime family together, and off the radar of the idiot in red. Still, he owed the kid, after the scare he'd put in the little shit. He was a rough person, but fuck if he was going to be his father. Shaking the discomfort off, he caught the kid's eye. "Lisa gave ya pretty good advice, but you can't guarantee where people are gonna be. Have you ever seen him there before? Or anywhere? Maybe he was just passing through, kid. It sucks, but let it lay. If he shows up again, think on what Lisa said. People don't always respond to rudeness or suggestive offers. And kid?" He stood, dusting off his jeans. "You owe me a new pair of pants."

Axel offered a tremulous smile. "If you want new pants, you're going to have to let me come on a job to earn the money for them." He really did want to go on another heist with the older Rogues. That's why he'd passed through Central City and here to Keystone where they made their base of operations. He had what it took, he just needed the right platform on which to demonstrate that to the older men. His whole life he'd looked up to them, and this was his chance. Leonard was right, he had to shake thoughts of the handsome boy from his head and focus on what really mattered. Impressing James Jesse... and Leonard, because the dude was a serious hardass and always about five seconds away from evicting Axel from the team.

The older man ran a calloused hand over his face, heaving a heavy sigh. "You know what, fine. You're in on the museum job tonight. Evan will give you the details in an hour. I swear to fuck, Axel, if you don't stay on plan or decide that orders don't work for you tonight I will leave you there for the Flash to find. Got it?"

The heist planned was simple enough, though picking out the details through the Scot's thick accent was always a trial. From what Axel could piece together, the museum had a gem collection, and there was a diamond in it they wanted, because someone's gun could be upgraded with it, maybe the cold gun? He wasn't really sure. Damn but the guy needed captions. Axel kind of faded out as Evan rambled on about this or that, almost completely unintelligible to the young American boy. Finally a name caught his attention and he snapped back into focus.

Once more picking through the rough Scots edges of the seemingly never-ending monologue, Axel gathered that the plan was for Len to ice over the cameras to destroy the feed, Evan would step through the display glass, and Axel would help Digger incapacitate any guards that got too nosy. Easy-peasy, as long as the Flash didn't show up. Evan caught Axel's eye with a steady glare. "Th'mun in red shows 'is gob, ye scram, awright? Ye be twae young fer messin' abow tha' jus' now wit' Cap'n awfy radge on ye still."

The young man wanted to protest, both the butchering of the English language and the designated task of running away if the Flash showed up, but Leonard was still mad at him, and sometimes it was best to hold back. Particularly, when the leader specifically gives you instructions about your role in the operation they didn't really want to involve you in from the start, it was maybe best if you didn't mess it all up. Still, being paired with the Aussie wasn't anyone's dream job. Blue eyes darted across the room, nose wrinkling in distaste. Unaware that he was being observed, Digger took a swig from a can of beer, belched loudly, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and then had a rather focused scratch at his belly button through the yellow and grey stained muscle tank he was wearing.

"Och, ye canny hit a Speedster wit' a bent stick, not none o' us can, so haud yer wheesht 'til ye been prove sae much." Axel blinked, barely able to comprehend the latest assault on his ears by Evan and his loose hold on anything that resembled language. He was beginning to understand what Mark was always complaining about.

"Ummm... Right. 'Kay. Gotcha." He did not, in fact, have much of a clue what he'd just heard, but he didn't want to continue the conversation, such as it were, any further. Instead he moved off to gather his gear, focusing on being glad he was included. He pulled out his pre-heist checklist, something he had scoffed at until James had used one in front of him a few months back. If even the chaotic marvel that was the original Trickster believed in checklists, his adoring protégé (that James adamantly stuck by the joke he did not want, which of course, was ridiculous) would use one too. Examining and checking off various razor yo-yos, exploding rubber chickens and a rather aggressive set of chattering teeth swiped from another villain while Axel was visiting outside of the twin cities, he was satisfied.

The anti-grav boots were in tiptop shape, he had, after all, just tested them that morning, even though the scenario didn't go well. Still, everything else was ready to go, tucked into pockets, pouches, and his handy-dandy heist bag as necessary. Now they just had to wait for Len to decide it was just the right time to set out. The older man had like a sixth sense for these things. Axel might not always agree with the amount of planning and thought that went into things that he believed should go organically, off the cuff, but he had to admire the efficiency the older man packed into the simplest robbery. It was an art all itself.


	4. Chapter 4

Finally Len signaled to the team, and Digger put down his now-empty beer can, emitting another loud belch that made Axel wince. The Aussie really was the most disgusting human he'd ever met. With relative efficiency, and a large smattering of colourful epithets, everyone had their gear gathered up and piled into the car Mick had stolen for them last week. It was nothing special, just some beaten-up old junker that no one would look twice at, perfect for the job at hand.

After a token protest from Axel about being crammed into the back seat, and an accompanying threat from Len to send him through the mirror with Evan instead that quickly silenced said protest, the Rogues were on their way. The Captains in the front seat were quiet, each focusing in their own way. Cold following all the speed limits and traffic signs so as to not attract attention, Boomerang clearly sobering up in anticipation of the job. He, more than any of them perhaps, loved the thrill of the heist. He'd robbed every bank in his native country, coming across the big pond to try his luck in the Americas. Axel might not like him, but when he was out there, he was good. That was all that mattered in the end.

The museum was quiet, lights low and no cars parked nearby as the Rogues slowly cruised past. They turned the corner, traveling two more blocks before parking the junker. Abandoning the car, they wouldn't risk using it again, Leonard dropped the keys a few steps away. Hopefully the temptation would be enough to tempt some of the city's lesser criminals to dispose of the vehicle for them. If not, there wasn't much to tie it to the Rogues in the first place.

Masks on and weapons at the ready, the three Rogues headed out to run interference for Evan. If everything had gone off according to Len's calculations so far, the Mirror Master should already be inside the museum, flickering across facets and reflective surfaces in search of the gem they sought.

One quick burst from the cold gun and the rotating security camera by the back entrance ceased functioning, another hit the locking mechanism, freezing it solid. With a grunt of effort, Digger applied his foot generously to the frozen lock, cracking the mechanism and causing the door to swing open. All three Rogues froze, but no alarm could be heard. Either the museum had upgraded to a silent alarm, or it hadn't been repaired since the last break-in. Not one to take chances, Len caught both the other Rogues eye for a moment. "We have about five minutes. Incapacitate, try not to maim anyone, and grab whatever looks valuable. That should distract from our main purpose here."

The three men entered the building, Leonard moving quickly down the halls, disabling security cameras with his cold gun. Digger headed to the left, through some modern exhibit that he barely noticed, fingers twitching along the curve of his boomerang. Loot was good, but the beer in his system was itching for a fight, and he was off to find one. Axel took this as an indication he should head right, skating along on his anti-grav shoes, whisking past displays of broken old pottery and rocks that kinda looked like arrowheads if you squinted just right. This was being a Rogue, this is why he'd come out to Keystone.

Ahead there was a curved sweep of light, the trail of a flashlight passing the door. Grinning, Axel set himself down behind a particularly ugly statue featuring a large nosed woman, rifling through his heist bag for just the right tool. Coming out with the chattering teeth, he wound them up and sent them off down the hall following the night watchman. Hearing the distinctive click-clacking sound, the older man stopped, eyes closed in a quick prayer before he turned around, pulling his baton from his belt. "All right you rough punk, come on out and go home and I won't even ca-"

His voice was cut off in a strangled shout as the teeth attacked him, gnawing at his Achilles tendon in a most violent fashion. Axel practically fell over laughing, watching the dumpy old guy hopping about on one foot, desperately attempting to smash the attacking toy with his baton. A flying object passed his head, knocking the guard solidly in the back of the head. The man fell over unconscious, and Axel straightened, face cross. "Whatcha do that for?"

Scowling, Digger stomped past, landing a boot solidly on the chattering teeth, smashing Axel's prized toy. "Incapacitate. Keep a low profile, that to hard fer ya, fuckstick? I oughta thrash ya, but Cold'd kick me own arse forrit. Git outside, keep watch. Yer benched." Axel attempted a protest, but Digger gave him a firm slap upside the head. "Ya wanna git benched permanent? Do as yer told."

Grumbling threats and rubbing his head, Axel grabbed his heist bag and dragged his feet towards the entrance. He hated the Aussie. Hated. Who did he think he was? Wasn't the guy supposed to be clearing the other side? Why could no one ever let him just do his own thing. With an irritated huff, he leaned against the wall, glaring out the window into the street. The cops were still at least three minutes away, he didn't know why he had to be here.

"H-hey! You're not supposed to be here!"

Axel turned at the soft voice. Overalls and a mop indicated that the person must be the night custodian. A grin started to spread across his face, when he finally reached the custodian's eyes. Fuck. It was the handsome boy from the other day, the one who had been wearing the dress. "You!"

The boy looked confused, studying Axel's face for a moment, before recognition dawned on his delicate features. A mask that only covered your eyes wasn't the best disguise. "You. I should have known. Give back whatever you've stolen right now, I'm calling the cops." The boy dug around in his overalls for his phone.


	5. Chapter 5

With a few quick steps, Axel was across the gap between him and the handsome boy, one hand on the other's wrist, preventing him from pulling out his phone. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Look... I'm sorry about the other day, I was an ass, I just wanted to get your attention, but right now I think you best get out, go home early, call your boss on the way and tell him you had to leave because you felt sick." He couldn't help that pleading note from entering his voice, but if one of the older guys on this job knocked the custodian out, he was pretty sure his chances would be shot for good.

Blue grey eyes stared into the bright blue hues of Axel's own gaze, and finally the other young man closed his eyes and nodded, propping his mop against the wall. "Fine. I'm going. I'm calling the cops once I'm out of here, though." He tugged his wrist from Axel's grip, pushing past the blonde and walking a few steps before turning and pointing. "You... You're what's wrong with things today, you know? You just say and do whatever you want and expect the world to be okay with it. You're gonna get hit hard when the other boot drops."

Axel watched the other boy go, brow wrinkled as he tried to work his way through the meaning of the impromptu lecture he's just received. Not quite getting it, he shrugged. If the guy liked him enough to scold him, that meant he couldn't hate him, and if he didn't hate him, maybe he still had a chance. With that nearly incomprehensible leap of logic, the second Trickster grinned and turned around, only to see Leonard and Evan standing there, goods in hand and a dark look on their faces. Fuck. He was in so much trouble right now.

Evan opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by a curt hand gesture from Leonard. The leader of the Rogues tilted his head, listening, but still no sound of sirens broke through the stillness of the night. Captain Cold gestured down a hallway. "Get Digger, and get back to the Den. I'll deal with the kid."

Axel swallowed hard, the lump in his throat big enough to choke a goat as he watched the older man approach him through cautious eyes. His fingers twitched, wanting to have a weapon in his hand in case things went sour, but the thinking part of Axel knew that having a weapon would likely decrease his chances of making it through this endeavor unscathed. Surprisingly, once Evan had vanished out of hearing distance, Leonard's entire demeanor softened, becoming far less threatening. "That the boy? The one you were talking about?"

Confused, afraid, and deeply uncertain as to what was happening, Axel just nodded. Leonard clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Don't worry, most of us have done something stupid over a piece of tail now and then, once they've had a few drinks the guys will be taking the piss outta you instead of being pissed at you. If you get a chance, ask Digger about the girl at the bakery. That's one fuck of a story."

Feeling better, but still very confused at the sudden lightening of Leonard's mood, Axel followed the older Rogue towards the exit of the Museum. Just then a blur of bright red cut in front of them, and there stood the Flash, in all his primary coloured glory. Axel couldn't help but grin at the ridiculous sight. The hero raised his hand to point at Captain Cold, opening his mouth to speak when the younger man decided to interrupt. "Nice Spandex, Speedy."

"I -uh - what? Excuse me? Speedy's Green Arrow's sidekick I'm Ki- I'm the Flash!" The superhero blinked rapidly, turning to inspect Axel with a frown. "Who are you? Is that James' chicken?" He turned back to Cold. "Are you seriously dragging kids around with you now, Snart? I have to say, I'm disappointed."

"Hey! I'm right here you know." Axel was starting to feel the confusion from earlier fade away as his irritation at the red-clad idiot grew. He reached into his bag, pulling out the rubber chicken that had caught the Flash's eye and tossed it at him. In less than a blink, the hero had caught it, and the second Trickster grinned. "Idiot."

The chicken exploded, sending the red-masked hero crashing into the wall behind him, knocking priceless artifacts from their stands. Len and Axel turned and hightailed it out of there, as the superhero sped around, rescuing the ancient treasures. They knew they only had seconds to escape. Just then Evan reached out of a nearby window, grabbing both of them by their collars and dragging them into the dimension behind the mirrors.

Axel's stomach twisted up weird, and as Len leaned against the glass, breathlessly discussing tactics with Evan, the youngest Rogue unceremoniously upchucked the day-old corndogs he'd had for breakfast. The young man clutched his sides, heaving as his head spun and he tried to get a grip on the new world he'd found himself within.

"Oi! Ye clatty wee tripe! Yer gettin' skelped soon as ah get ye oot o' here." Len shook his head, murmuring to Evan in a low voice that Axel couldn't hear over the sounds of his own guts roiling. Leonard pulled out his cold gun, checking the settings, and then nodded to Evan. The Scot stomped over to Axel, lifting the young lad up by the scruff of his collar, and tossing him unceremoniously through a different mirror.

The blonde hit the floor with a soft thud, barely scrambling to his knees before his stomach protested again. With nothing left to hurl up, he simply gagged, his insides trying to escape out his esophagus as he desperately dry heaved. However Evan stood popping in and out of those mirrors, it wasn't for him, and he was never ever ever ever EVER doing it again.


	6. Chapter 6

Finally his roiling stomach calmed, and he was able to sit back, wiping the sweat, spittle and various other unpleasant liquids from his face on the back of his sleeve. His fingers curled against the cold, cracked tile, and as his vision cleared, that unsettling sense of being nowhere finally faded away. He knew these layers of grime over stained white. He made half an effort to stand, lurching forward, but not quite making it upright. At least it put him in a better position, and Axel rested his forehead on the yellowed edge of the toilet seat, breathing shallowly. Any deeper and the filth that he and the other Rogues lived in was sure to overwhelm his already sensitive stomach.

Once the room had stopped spinning at this new height, he used a hand on the sink and one on the toilet to force himself to his feet, legs wobbling beneath him like a newborn calf. A calf. Hah. A mooncalf was exactly what he was, all big eyed at some pretty face in the middle of a job. He'd lost focus, almost got them caught, and given the darn Flash time to show up. He'd be lucky if Len didn't run his dumb ass right out of the Den when the real Rogues returned. The young blond slowly made his way out of the filthy bathroom, across the rubbish strewn hallway towards his own little corner, while it was still his. What he needed was to lie down... and maybe rethink his life. A lot.

Sitting on his bed, he fidgeted with a yo-yo, no tricks, just the soothing motion of gliding the wooden disks up and down the string. Back and forth it bobbed, making his eyelids lower as it soothed his tormented mind. Getting his life sorted hadn't really been an item on his agenda, but he wanted to figure it out, at least he wanted to figure it out now. Axel knew that he wanted to see the pretty boy again, dress or no dress. He wouldn't fuck it up this time either. He'd listen to Lisa, and hell, maybe he'd ask Hartley for some advice. The gay bastard was supposedly the maestro of romantic interludes, whatever that meant. More than anything he wanted to be a functioning and useful member of the Rogues. He'd idolized them for so long, and all he ever seemed to do was fuck things up for himself, and worse, for them. Worst of all, he just couldn't figure out how to do both at the same time. There had to be a way, he didn't believe in impossible. That's what James Jesse had taught him.

Dropping the toy onto the floor, he flopped back onto the bed, his stomach gurgling a warning at the sudden jostle,c making him freeze with concern. There was no way he was getting it clean... ish ever again if he puked in his bed. That and he didn't know the first thing about removing the vomit smell from a mattress. After a long, nervous pause where he barely dared breathe for fear of upsetting his internal balance, Axel decided he was not, in fact, going to upchuck again. Whispering his gratitude to absolutely no one, he settled into the lumpy mattress, staring at the stained and pock-marked ceiling.

Idly, he wondered how anyone had gotten blue paint splattered across the ceiling of this dumpy little room. Apparently the last guy who'd slept here, Ray or Ron or something like that, had been a bit of an artist. From the gobs of paint left on walls, ceiling, and floor, he was more likely some drunken spaz, much like the majority of the other Rogues had turned out to be. Still, when he was trying to think, the paint was a distraction from the dirt that coated everything in the den. Axel tried to pick out pictures in the splatters. That one by the light fixture looked like the boy in his floppy hat, that one by the electrical outlet looked like a mop, and that one right over the bed looked like Digger passed out on the couch. None of this was helping, and Axel wasn't sure how to get from his current level of distraction, to one where he was making progress towards his, admittedly simple, goals. Gradually the frown wrinkles smoothed from his forehead as the young man fell asleep, sprawled on top of his bunched blankets, one hand instinctively seeking out a rubber chicken.

When Len and the other guys finally made it out, narrowly making their daring escape from the Fastest Man Alive, he marched up to give Axel a talking to, the peanut gallery drinking and tagging along behind like a bunch of monkeys. When he saw the boy laying there, curled around that stupid chicken, Len couldn't bring himself to wake the little shit. He shushed Digger and Evan, ignoring their protests and suggestions, none of which were intelligent enough to bear consideration, ushering the two idiots back downstairs with their already half-drained cans of beer. Honestly, one of these days they were gonna die of liver failure, but as long as Evan wasn't doping, he couldn't really cast stones.

While the Aussie and the Scot landed themselves on the couch, slurring at one another in what Len could only assume was supposed to be the English language, the oldest of the Rogues sat in his chair, chin in hand as he considered all the options. The interruption of the Flash had been an inconvenience, but nothing more than that really. He fished out the gem from his jacket's inner pocket, holding it up to the light. There were some adjustments that needed to be made, not just to his weapon, but to the team as well. If it didn't run smoothly, the jobs didn't run smoothly. Nothing irritated Leonard Snart quite as much as snags in his perfectly planned escapades.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter, school has been sucking my brain out through my ears lately. <3

Axel awoke with a raging headache and the bitter taste of old vomit on his tongue, admittedly not an unusual combination at the Rogues' Den. He lay in bed, wishing himself dead as the pounding gradually decreased until thoughts found space in his head. His foggy memory gradually began to fill in the details of the previous evening. When the young man finally managed to sort through his fuzzy recollections, he let out a low groan. Slowly he struggled to a sitting position, one hand braced against his forehead as if he was holding in his brains, he slowly looked around the room. On his stained and cigarette-burned nightstand was an unopened bottle of water, and a small piece of paper, clearly torn from a phone book, with a note written in a rather familiar, messy scrawl.

We need to talk.

Making a rash decision, the young thief grabbed the water bottle and pulled on his air-walking shoes, beating a speedy retreat out the bedroom window. He's not entirely sure where he's headed, more travelling out of angsty rebellion than out of any particular desire to go anywhere specific. The sky is overcast, the scent of rain on the air, though it hasn't released yet. Despite the chill, Axel seems mostly unaffected in his current mental state. Eventually he finds himself in a part of town rougher and suffering even more from urban decay than that the area where the Rogues' Den was located. In the centre of the area was the bare bones of what was once a public park, equipment fallen into disrepair, rusted and warped from weather and disuse. He looked around, feeling like he had finally found the right place to match his current mood.

As the sky grew darker, he took a seat on the rusted roundabout, kicking off with one foot against the ground. With a grating screech it begins to spin, every circulation providing yet another horrible squeaking sound, though not quite as bad as the first. Pulling both his feet in, he wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his forehead against them. There were a million things he should be doing right now, not the least of them considering what he would say to Snart when he finally had to face the leader, but he didn't want to do that right now. He kinda wished he had brought the rubber chicken with him, or at least something to occupy his hands.

Axel was sulking.

Just then the clouds overhead open up, and a steady stream of large, frigid raindrops begin to fall from the sky. As the water plastered his hair to his head, soaking him through to the bone, he shivered. Still he sat there, sadly turning in squeaky circles, wallowing in his bad mood.

His petulance was interrupted by the sound of an excited bark. Looking up he can barely make out through the rain, a figure in a bright yellow rain jacket, carrying a cheery red umbrella covered in cartoon dinosaurs with a small brown dog bounding around it. Noticing the young man on the roundabout the dog dashes forward with a friendly bark, dragging it's human behind. The person on the end of the leash laughs. "Whoa down, Bella. Gentle! Gentle!"

Axel's face was suddenly filled with wet, happy mutt as Bella introduced herself. He sputtered, a laugh wrenching itself from his lips despite himself and he put a foot down, halting the roundabout. The particular friendly pup made maintaining his sulky demeanor near impossible. "Sorry about Bella, she hasn't learned yet that not everyone is big into kisses and bundles of wet fur."

The wet thief frowned, looking up to see a familiar face. Both boys looked startled for a moment, and then the one in the rain slicker rolled his eyes. "Oh you have got to be kidding me." He takes a firm grip on the leash, pulling his dog backwards. "Heel Bella. That's what a heel looks like." He glares at Axel, the dog looking between them in confusion, a whimper escaping her little muzzle.

Axel hunched his shoulders forward, his voice filled with teenage rebellion. "Look, I said I was sorry. I risked my position to get rid of you last night without you getting hurt. I don't know what else you fucking want from me." Though he started strong, but the end of his little speech there was a note of lonely desperation that softened the other lad's facial expression.

"I admit, that's true. Look... you're soaked, you're probably cold, and Bella needs to towel off so she doesn't catch a cold. My place is close, come on in and dry off. I might have something that will fit you."

Neither of the young men were really looking at one another, each with colour-tinged cheeks for different reasons, but eventually Axel stood, gruffly muttering at the other boy. "Uhh... thanks. That would be nice. Or something."

"Yeah, or something." The other boy laughed, bringing his dog to heel as he turned back in the direction he had come from. "My name's Archie, by the way. No need to introduce yourself, I know who you are. Well, I know your name anyway, I admit that who you are is turning out to be more complicated than I expected."


End file.
